


Library Outing

by Wolvesonparade



Category: Man of Steel (2013)
Genre: Clark Got Game, F/M, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28120143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolvesonparade/pseuds/Wolvesonparade
Summary: Requested - “Clark going to a public library for a story and meeting reader there. That would be so cute.” So that’s what happens! Look no further for something cute and soft.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Reader, Clark Kent/Self Insert
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Library Outing

**Author's Note:**

> This is gifted to @cavillsbestgal on Tumblr who asked for a little something something and was soooo kind to gift me a delightful moodboard she posted to her own blog. Any reviews and critiques are welcomed and appreciated!  
> Safety and Peace y'all.

There’s nothing like the feeling of being given a task far below your abilities - the Daily Planet decided that they really needed Clark to cover the recent upgrades to the downtown library. That’s not to say he didn’t think it was newsworthy, he fully supported anything that promoted learning and literacy. He also enjoyed a good book as much as the next guy, maybe even a little more than sometimes, but that still didn’t mean he felt this was the best use of his time and energy at the moment. Who knew what Luthor could be getting up to at the moment, especially when he had it on good authority that there could be some players wanting to get in on the kill Superman game. Exhausting enough on a regular day, even harder when his daytime job decided to go in a different direction than where he really wanted to be.

While he may be on the same side of town as his tip lead him, he refused to not give the library its due diligence. Even if they have only received a few computers or some funds he would write the best damn interest piece about them.

After one detour (he really couldn’t help himself, he _had to help that old lady across the street_ who in the world let her out without a cane or something?) he made it to the library relatively on time. He locked up his bike next to a couple of kids’ mountain bikes and then hustled up the stairs. Upon entering he spotted the help desk and asked for the manager, who he was supposed to interview. The gentleman, a bland faced Caucasian with grey hair parted down the middle, introduced himself as Marcus Sweigart and immediately effusively thanked Clark for taking the time to write about their improvements. He double checked that it was okay for him to record the interview, to which Sweigart smiled and said ‘of course of course, there’s a lot to remember’ and immediately swept him along.

Clark had to admit, they had put the money to good use; Sweigart stated that they had received the money from a huge fundraising effort within the community and that they were doing their level best to make every penny count. The details bored him but the effort that schools in the area and local businesses had gone to was very commendable and noteworthy. He could easily write an uplifting interest piece about them _and_ move on the tip he received - things appeared to be working in his favor today.

The tour took him around the library, showing off the repainted walls that a few artists had added their own flair to. The children’s section had particularly fanciful designs of all sorts of animals and classic fairy tale characters, while the adult and non-fiction sections were a little less assaulting to the eye color wise but kept up with the creative themes. New computers were pointed out, and Sweigart explained how the old ones were given a good go-over by a couple of sixteen year olds happy to fix and streamline them for school credit. Books that they hadn’t been able to replace were replaced, some new ones were ordered for sections that were years out-of-date, and some much needed maintenance could now be afforded for the old plumbing.

Clark noted all of these features, jotted down all the names given to him (of people that volunteered their time, adults that offered up much needed supplies, businesses that did free or greatly discounted work) and had half-written the article by the time the interview completed. They shook hands, thanked each other for their time, and Clark wandered off to take another look at the paintings.

He always remembered libraries fondly, a safe place for his senses and from bullies. There was a time when he frequented the tiny Smallville library and the school library almost as much as the barn and fields of home. That kind of time wasn’t available any more, but he still read from time to time. And libraries still felt soothing to him.

“Oh no,”

A dismayed whisper caught his ear, his keen hearing pinpointing to a striking young woman at a privacy desk down the aisle from where he stood. A switch in vision showed her fingers furiously typing away and he could even hear the keys’ faint groans if he concentrated enough.

“No no no, nononononooooo-“ The typing stopped and the last syllable hitched in her delicate throat, cutting off all sound. Her fingers fell silent, and he altered his course to slowly peruse the books down that very same aisle. He wasn’t going to lie to himself - she was attractive and he of course had a bit of a savior complex.

“I can’t believe it. All that work. Poof.” Her fingers wiggled over the keyboard, mimicking a cloudburst from a bomb.

Clark switched to the other side of the aisle and moved close enough to actually see her screen. And he saw an unfortunately familiar sight -

The dreaded Blue Screen of Death.

In the Daily Planet offices they used Windows, just like a lot of other Metropolis businesses and citizens. So he, and many other Planet employees, hated their computers the most when this sort of thing happened. Often. However, this could also give Clark the edge he needed.

“Excuse me?” Clark addressed her from the side so as to not startle her too badly. As it was, she did jerk in her seat to face him. “Sorry to startle you, but I recognize the problem.” He pointed at the blue screen with white writing and gently leaned on the privacy board extending above the desk.

——

You had been working on this stupid finals paper for days now. Bang’s had somehow become your energy drink of choice. Well, actually, not surprisingly since the store you frequented stocked like 10 different flavors _at least_ and there was something hilarious about drinking a can of Rainbow Unicorn. You’d come to the downtown library because it usually was a lot more peaceful than the U of Metropolis library and also surprisingly close to campus. The progression of improvement had also been really nice to witness and you really appreciated that the time and effort was finally being put into it.

But this paper had you wanting to pull your hair out! Just because you were doing masters level work didn’t mean everything had to be a paper the size of Superman! But you are on the home stretch, come on Y/N, let’s conclusion this bitch and pack up!

And then, everything stopped on the screen, and you watched in horror as the image pixelated and then turned rapidly from black to blue with the words. “A problem has been detected and Windows has been…” and on and on.

“Oh no,” you whisper. You tap at the keys, but nothing happens, and CTRL+ALT+DEL is not saving your ass right now. “No no no, nononononooooo-“ you stop your whimpers with a hitched breath and can’t remember the last time you saved, or how many pages you’d managed to bang out since this morning and how many of those could be lost. “I can’t believe it. All that work. Poof.” You mime a mushroom cloud and the morbid humor gets a lone serotonin molecule out of your brain.

“Excuse me?”

You jerk in your hard seat to face a stranger, a _damn fine stranger hooooooly shit!_

“Sorry to startle you, but I recognize the problem.” He leans onto the privacy board by your head and gestures at your screen.

“Uh, what? I’m sorry?” _Wow Y/N, you are a GENIUS._ You brush your hair, which has decided to try to impede your view of this glorious male specimen.

Right before your eyes the Specimen grinned, which on anyone else you might think it shy but this guy surely had never been called shy a day in his life, right? Ugh, the baby blues on him are seriously distracting, which is great because just the thought of thinking about your paper has you freaking out a bit.

“Blue screen problems, I’ve known the pain. I’d be happy to help if you need it?”

You blink in shock as you finally understand what he’s offering, and feel your face heat in a blush as you shake your head _yes_.

“Yeah, yes, that would be amazing actually.” You look back at the laptop, it’s been your lifeblood through college, and if it dies on you now you’re not sure how you’re going to afford another one.

“No problem, this’ll be fast. Would you mind, uh, letting me drive?” He stands straight up and you can see that he’s also _tall, oh my, soooo tall, and those shoulders, I could curl up on them!_

You get out of the wooden seat, which feels amazing after the hours on it. The nice stranger took a messenger bag off his shoulder and you watched him dig around under the flap as he took your place in front your old piece of shit and the GIANT mess of notes and books everywhere else. You hope he doesn’t notice the trash can full of candy wrappers and energy drinks right by the desk and you suck your belly in self-consciously. You then immediately release because, lord, you’re sore from sitting there so long! And really, staring at this guys soft black hair and chiseled face is a delight for the eyes after that stupid screen.

You post up in the same spot this guy vacated, and you realize you’re letting some guy whose name you don’t even know touch your computer.

Belatedly, you ask, “I appreciate the help, strange man, but do you have any qualifications?”

His head pops up from where he’s still digging in his bag and smiles at you. Ohhh, it’s an amazing smile too - all straight white teeth and plump lips. “I don’t, but one of my friends in tech support has a long list of them. And I’m Clark.” He puts his hand out and automatically you reach back and shake his hand. His delightfully warm and large hand, _oh girl you need to slow your roll real fast now_. “We get this problem a lot at my office and he gave me a quick fix.” Clark let’s go of your hand and pulls his left one out of the bag, holding a small black flash drive. “It’s not really all that fun to watch but it gets the job done.”

He ran his fingers along the sides of your laptop, and by the time you thought to tell him the USB port is on the left Clark found it and plugged the drive in.

“Oh God, please don’t kill what’s left of my computer. I can’t afford to lose this paper!”

Clark looks up at you, the lighting glinting off his lenses, and still with that heckin’ cute smile of his. “No worries, I’ve used it quite a few times myself without an issue. It’s going to take a couple of minutes though, would you like your seat back?” Clark moved as if to stand and you immediately waved him back down.

“No, it’s okay, really, I’ve been in that chair nearly all day. Feel free to have it.” You look at the screen and see that a loading bar with only one filled square sat on a black wallpaper. Your concerns spike for a moment and you comment to him, “I just really really hope that I haven’t lost all my work. I’ve been slaving over it all day and I’m so close to being done with it for the semester.”

Clark nods and the motion wafts a little bit of his cologne to you. You hadn’t consciously noted the smell until now, realizing that the faint citrus and sandalwood is coming from him. It’s subtle, so no wonder you didn’t notice it sooner.

“You should be okay, this usually brings the system back to normal and restores your work, miss…?”

You stare for a moment, then with a start blurt, “Y/N, hi, my name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, unfortunate student at the university.” You stick your hand out to shake, momentarily forgetting you’ve already done this, but he gamely shakes your hand again. “Sorry, I’m running off of caffeine and stubbornness and it’s not great for my social skills.”

Clark laughs, and it’s loud enough that a couple of people up the aisles look at you both and frown. You meekly wave at them and mouth a “sorry” while Clark covers his loud mouth and continues to laugh much softer.

“I know how you feel. Some days when I’m writing an article it feels like the words refuse to come out unless I’ve been sitting for hours and pounding Red Bull.”

You smile and share with him what your paper is about, and learn that he’s a writer for the Daily Planet. You don’t read the paper, or news, all that much considering you’re about to round the base of getting a Masters degree and sliding into doctoral work. Who has the time? But Clark makes you want to take a look at it; he speaks to you with passion about changing the world just by making sure people have all the best and most important information. You want to change the world too, but have a few more years of work ahead of you before you can get to that point.

While you’re speaking to him, the laptop screen changes to the Windows load screen. After a load bar fills quickly, your work screen pops up almost exactly as you remember it.

“Holy shit,” You utter under your breath.

“Right?”

Pushing off the privacy board, you round the desk right next to Clark and ignore him in favor of checking your paper. Your heart pounds, and the nervous sweat that had started earlier came back a little bit as you scrolled through the last few pages.

Giddily, you tell Clark, “It’s here, it’s almost all here! There’s a couple of paragraphs at the end that aren’t there anymore but the rest of it…” You turn from where you have leaned over the desk and put yourself in direct contact with your new best friend and stare at him with wonder. “You might have just saved my degree.”

He smiles, _why does he have to smile so much, it’s so pretty,_ and takes the flash drive out of your port. Wiggling it between his fingers he replies, “Lifesaver, am I right? It’s saved me hours of work before, and I’m glad it could do the same for you.” You watch as he turns his focus to putting the flash drive back in his bag on the other side of the chair and then stand. You back up to give him more space and notice again just how tall and broad he is. Sure, you’re not the shortest person, but you definitely lack the inches this tall drink of water has.

Really, Clark is just so damn hot and he has been the sweetest ever since this attempted disaster occurred. Maybe…

“I am too, my academic career can continue without me losing my mind.” You watch him adjust his sport coat and bag, then push his frames up a little further on his nose. _Even his nose is perfect, what the hell, let’s do this._ “I would love to thank you properly with some coffee or lunch? Just not now, I really need to finish this paper this week. But maybe this weekend some time?” You watch his face for a reaction, and are pleased to see the immediate blush fill out on his cheekbones and bridge of his nose. _THAT’S CUTE TOO WHAT THE HELL._

“It’s okay, I’m busy this week too, have a few stories to work on.” He leans in and you can smell the cologne even better and feel mesmerized with his eyes. _Is that a little brown in one?_ “Spoiler alert - one of them is about this very building.”

Your breath catches, this feels very fairy tale to you, as Clark reaches out and knocks on the desk top. You blink and he’s suddenly walking away, but backwards like some weirdo. He’s still smiling and you are still thinking about how much you want to follow him. Then he points at the desk and raises his hand, thumb and pinkie extended with the other fingers curled in, and exaggeratedly mouths ‘call me.’ Then you watch as he about faces and turns down an aisle to disappear.

You blink again and swivel to look at the desk. On one of the sticky notes attached to an open book that sneaky adonis had written his full name and number.

“Y/N, you will never forgive yourself if you don’t text him later.” Smirking to yourself, you saved it to your contacts and, just because, take a picture of his name and made it the contact picture. “And you will definitely never be able to live yourself if you don’t bang him like a screen door in a summer storm.”

With that said, back to work, so you can get this fucking degree.


End file.
